


Expendables Christmas 2015

by Gadhar



Category: The Expendables (Movies)
Genre: Christmas Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:54:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5538920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gadhar/pseuds/Gadhar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ohhh, Barney disappears every year at Christmas and Lee catches him coming back, dressed as Santa. Gives him an incredulous look, "You moonlighting or something? Short of cash?"</p><p>Barney rolls his eyes and answers reluctantly, "No. I usually take some presents to the orphanage that raised me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Expendables Christmas 2015

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wanderingsmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingsmith/gifts).



> ED: I did a little editing this afternoon. I like it more than I did at 2 in the morning last night. 
> 
> I have no creative titles right now.
> 
> Product of a conversation with a friend which is in the summary. 
> 
> I have another Christmas fic in the works but no clue if it'll actually be finished.

_"No. I usually take some presents to the orphanage that raised me."_

The way he says it, just matter-of-fact despite the reluctance, kind of throws Lee for a loop. Partly because Barney's never mentioned the orphanage before and partly because it feels kind of like a big deal and how the hell has that particular piece of Barney's past never come up? Granted there's a lot Lee doesn’t know but it's mostly because he's already got his own versions and there's no need to know, but hell he's Barney's best friend! This is something he should know, it's important.

Then he realizes maybe Barney didn't think he needed to know, didn't think that was an important factor of his childhood and Lee can't quite understand that either because there's no way in hell that shit wasn't a huge contributor in molding the man that's standing before him with a fake beard pulled down under his chin and a red and white fluffed coat hanging unbuckled. 

"Wow...okay. Definitely not expecting any part of this situation" ends up being what comes out of his mouth because he honestly can't come up with anything witty and while he won't admit that, he's not the type of guy to try and fake witty because really, that shit just sounds horrible and makes him feel even worse for saying it. 

"Why do you think the team never works over the holidays? It's not like the bad guys get a cup of eggnog and sing carols instead of causing havoc, there's still jobs. But I'm already booked every year." Barney jerks up the empty sack of what probably was crammed full of presents earlier to make his point.

"I just assumed it was cause some of guys have families, like Caesar. And you're kinda...fuck I don't know, _nice?_ "

Though really the current situation probably makes Barney the definition of nice, if nothing else ever has or will.

"Done this long before Caesar was on the team. Just works out in his favor. Now would you please move, this fucking suit is hot as hell and I'd like to change."

Lee moves off to the side as Barney grumbles his way past and later, when they're on separate ends of the couch, the bottle of Eggnog that Lee had brought over with the initial intent to celebrate the holidays between them, he can't really stop staring at Barney because between the Santa suit and the orphanage, it's got him thinking harder than he might be if he hadn't dipped into the bottle while waiting for Barney. 

"You're staring."

"I'm thinking"

"You're still staring."

"I'm staring because I'm thinking."

"If I let you ask whatever questions are popping into that little British noggin' of yours will you stop staring at me like I have two heads?"

Lee takes a long sip of the eggnog, swishing it around in his mouth because the sweet of the eggnog stands out against the alcohol when it's cold and he rather have it a little warmer so it'll go down his throat smoother. "Maybe," he answers eventually.

Barney rolls his eyes, _typical Lee_ , and turns in his seat, back against the arm of the sofa as he stretches a leg out in front of him, leaving one on the floor. "Alright, shoot."

"Who's Ma?" A better question probably would have been something with more context, maybe even more words like "If you grew up in an orphanage who the hell is this Ma lady you've mentioned like twice in the decade I've known you?" but that's what comes out and he'll go with it.

Barney doesn't even have to piece together what he means, he's known Lee long enough to not have to really, but Lee's too used to people not being able to follow the few fragments of thought that make it out his mouth, so it's still sort of surprising even though it shouldn't be. "Ma died when I was 6, Dad years before that. I don't remember a whole lot, but enough. Orphanage was after." Barney shrugs again with that same matter-of-fact-it's-not-important bullshit he used earlier.

For whatever reason, the words sting a little to Lee. 

"And the gifts?"

"After I left the service. Had money stashed away with no use for it. Mercenary life only increased those funds. And...despite how those years went, I owe the place a lot. I was lucky, it wasn't a complete shithole. It's even better now. It's worth it to see the kid's smile, gives them something to look forward to."

The tone with that is a little different, still a lot of emotionless bullshit, but there's a glimmer of...something underneath it all. Some weird mixture of sadness and...fondness. 

Lee feels the want to hug Barney for, fortunately, only the second time this month (though it certainly isn't the only thing he's wanted to do to Barney this month), but this time around he's not nearly sober or drunk enough to handle the feeling properly so he just drowns the rest of his glass and pours another; absently wondering how much alcohol is actually in this because it seems like a lot, certainly _feels_ like it. But then Lee stopped keeping track of how much he drank after Barney joined him.

"Any more questions?"

"I'm not sure yet, give me a few minutes."

Barney snorts and he's definitely a lot more sober than Lee is and what the fuck is with that? "If I had known this was going to happen I would have stayed at the orphanage all night."

"Ain't my fault you don't talk about yourself outside of 'Only thing faster than me is light wah, wah, wah.' I mean really, if you said just a few more words I wouldn't have to come up with a list of questions right after being mentally scarred by a fluffy white beard that _still_ couldn't cover up your ugly mug."

Barney laughs at him, "Mentally scarring huh? Suppose that should be high praise, coming for you, I mean, not much can scar you after being on a team with Gunner for as many years as you have."

And Lee smiles back even though mentally scarring is only the truth in the fact that the image of Barney dressed as Santa is burned into his memory, but in a good way, or half good maybe, depending on your point of view. His brain's already started taking the image apart—taking away the beard, leaving the hat and boots, exchanging loose pants for tight ones and getting rid of the wife beater Barney had on under the jacket so that Lee's mind gets a shot of a red jacket falling open over tanned abs and swirling ink. 

He's not sure if he's more weirded out or turned on but that essentially describes his entire relationship with Barney inside his head so he ignores it in favor of wondering if this is the year he's going to do it. 

His brain says no but the alcohol says yes.

His brain then proceeds to drudge up a list of reasons why _no, this is not a good idea_ and his brain’s probably right because, if it wasn’t, alcohol would be more of a poster product for good decisions rather than bad, but again, _alcohol_ so he does it anyway. 

Lee stands, picks up the bottle of eggnog and drowns it with the random thought that if he ever becomes a full-blown alcoholic this will be why. Not because of nightmares from the service or because of the no doubt permanent psychological trauma of his entire life, but literally because he cannot function like a normal fucking person around Barney, nor can he get the guts to do what he wants unless he’s mostly drunk. 

Right now he’s angling for mostly drunk but the kind of drunk where you can remember things because even if this is a one-time thing—assuming he gets as far as one-time and Barney doesn’t just knock him the fuck out—he wants to remember it. 

And if Barney does knock him out, maybe he’ll hit hard enough that the brain damage will be enough to make sure Lee never remembers the embarrassment since he’s not relying on the alcohol to wipe it clean.

Barney hasn’t said a word and the look on his face doesn’t even change until Lee’s straddling his hips, knees pressing into the couch and his jeans are already straining against his hard-on and doesn’t that kind of fucking hurt? 

Barney’s eyes go a little wide as Lee settles and then he’s pressing a hand against Lee’s chest, steadying him when he sways to the side a little and Lee’s wondering if maybe the whole bottle wasn’t necessary because hell he needs his balance. 

“Lee?”

Innocent, his name sounds innocent and vaguely unsure the way Barney says it and that’s maybe a little bit cute, in Lee’s mind. Because Lee has never been innocent or unsure, least not that he remembers, but he feels like if his mum was alive she could probably lay out examples and really, Barney probably could to. Because he’s Barney. 

“It’s Christmas,” Lee says, by way of explanation because to him, that makes sense, and while he realizes that once again it’s a broken fragment of the one solid thought that’s been running through his head for the past hour, he can’t find other words to go with it for a moment.

“It’s Christmas,” he repeats and he kind of hisses out the ‘s’ a little bit and yeah he’s more drunk than he thought, wow. “And you gave all those kids things and I thought that, maybe, you’d let me give you a little something back…for once in your goddamned celibate life.”

The last part’s an attempt at normalcy—normalcy for them that is, because none of this is normal. No part of Lee drunk with heated skin and a raging hard-on that’s pressing against Barney’s own considerable length blocked by jeans as Lee straddles him is normal. No part of Christmas sex between two best friends is normal either but fucking hell, Barney hasn’t socked him yet so maybe it could be. 

The hand Barney has pressed against his chest grows more insistent for a moment and Lee can’t tell if it’s because he’s swaying again—hell, everything _looks_ straight…well except himself—or if he’s trying to push Lee off. 

But the thumb of that hand starts to rub back and forth, slowly, over Lee’s chest. One slow swipe one way and then, even slower, back the other, building in speed until it’s a steady stroke of thumb that makes Lee think of Barney’s hand around his cock, same steady stroking, before jerking him off rough so that he’s coming hard all over Barney’s hand.

Lee looks into Barney’s eyes and he’s suddenly a helluva lot more sober than he was twenty seconds ago. He wonders if his thoughts were written somewhere on his face because Barney’s eyes are dark and knowing, hungry, like he saw everything Lee was thinking of. Maybe more. And his hand moves a little lower, thumb catching on Lee’s nipple and Lee shudders, eyes closing for a moment before opening again, locking on Barney’s.

“A present of sorts then, yeah?” Barney says and his voice is so thick that Lee has to pull himself out of the haze of sex in his head a little to understand him. Though the words simply throw him even deeper in to the haze, hips rocking against Barney’s unconsciously. 

“Yeah.” It’s only a little bit breathless, really. He’s not so drunk and so horny that he’s already that riled up. At least, not so much that he’d show it so openly. But then it’s fucking Barney and they went from talking about orphanages and dead parents to sex so it’s probable that whatever usual control Lee has is a little frayed, maybe he is a little bit more riled than he’d like to be. Probable. Just like sex is probable because even though they haven’t actually done that yet—he’s really too fucking hard and should have came at least once already and he’s this close to doing so in his pants because Barney’s thumb just fucking _stroking_ is playing hell with every scrap of composure and control he has and this is so much more than he expected—they’re most definitely probably going to do it because Lee can now feel the insistent cock pressing against his own, ready and willing to go and _fuck yes._

“Sounds good to me,” Barney says, like he even has to, because his hands are off Lee, pulling at his own tee shirt and if that doesn’t sound like ‘yes, I’d like to fuck you blind, How Many Times Can I Make Lee Come? for 1000 Alex’ Lee doesn’t know what does. 

“Do me a favor though?” Breathless again, but this time he can blame it on Barney’s hand on his chest, thumb stroking sensitive skin and _shit_ there’s the other hand, pulling up his shirt. Lee pictures sexy Santa Barney again and leans forward, reaching for the nightstand and shuddering at Barney’s mouth his skin, hot and cold and _tongue_. “Put this on?”

He leans back with the Santa hat hanging from a finger, Barney still suckling at his skin but he nods before his teeth nip the edge of Lee’s pec and Lee jerks, cock twitching. 

He pulls the hat over hair that is way silkier to the touch than Lee ever thought it’d be and Barney finally leans back, giving Lee a roguish grin that sends whatever blood Lee had left in his brain down to his cock. 

Lee leans forward on his hands, crotch pushing up against Barney’s as Barney rolls his hips up, grinding, the jeans increasing the friction but limiting the feeling. He’s got his hands at Barney’s belt, fumbling as Barney rolls his hips different ways, cock rubbing against Lee’s differently, then Barney noses at his chin, voice still thick, “Off.”

He’s pulling at Lee’s shirt that's been pushed up under his arms by Barney's hand, so Lee pulls back and obliges. It’s a knock against the pace he wants to set, against how quick he wants both of them naked or at the very least _Barney_ , but the look on Barney’s face—awe complete with sucking in a breath, his hands running through his hair—basically makes up for it. 

“How the fuck are you in this good of shape?” Barney’s fingers feather over his abs, light, and he does it again just to watch Lee shiver. His thumb finds that spot on the front of his hip, and fuck Barney's fucking _thumbs_. 

“You’re one to talk,” he snaps back because they’re supposed to fucking not swapping workout methods, even though it's true they’re both in pretty damn good shape, better than a lot of people at either of their ages, but then their job requires it too and therefore fucking is way more important. 

Barney thrusts up just then, fingers pinching, and teeth latching on the skin at Lee’s throat and he groans, gasping, trying everything not to fucking cum in his pants. 

“Fuck.”

“Working on it.” And Barney's hands are at his pants, fumbling with his belt until Lee knocks them away and they each undo their own pants, Lee doing the weirdest fucking shuffling and bending he’s ever had to wrangle his off without getting off of Barney. And then he’s pulling at Barney’s jeans, just low enough to get his cock free and when he does he wraps his hand around it; savoring the way Barney’s fingers tighten on his shoulders, head falling back. 

Barney’s thick in his hand, his thumb stroking over veins as he pumps and Barney’s hips move with him. He shudders a little every time Barney’s cock brushes his on the upstroke but it’s nothing compared to the way Barney’s twitching and groaning underneath him; shivers that ripple the muscles on his abs, quivers up his arms, neck and shoulder veins straining against his skin. A vein pulses right at the base of Barney’s neck, twitching in time with his cock, and Lee stares at it with some weird fascination he doesn’t understand and he wonders if that’s the alcohol talking but right now, he’s pretty sure his sex drive is in control and it’s currently making a stellar life decision by screwing Barney so he’s not going to argue with it. 

Lee leans down, sets his teeth against the vein and sucks and bites and licks and does really whatever the hell he wants, making Barney’s skin so wet there, marking, and it drives him a little crazy, enough that he gets distracted, Barney jerking up too fast for him to keep up, cock sliding out of his grip. 

And then Barney flips things, lines his cock up with Lee’s crack and just slowly grinds against Lee’s ass. Heat lights up his spine, makes his skin itch as he arches against the feeling, rubbing back, wanting more, and when Barney’s hand reaches back, finger a light touch against Lee’s hole, his brain freezes, body falling forward and he barely catches himself on the arm of the sofa, hands braced. 

Barney’s finger starts a steady stroking, probably knowing that shit drives Lee crazy after he already started losing it with a thumb on his chest, on his hip, and his lips are on Lee’s chest and neck, biting and sucking bruises that Lee hopes will stay for a while. 

And then Barney slides into him, one smooth deep thrust and Lee outright moans, the sound wet and needy and he’s stuck watching that damn pompom on the end of Barney’s hat swing every time Barney thrusts up into Lee. It jerks up when Barney fucks into him hard, sort of sways when Barney randomly slows down and drags out that burning skin on skin tug and Lee’s not sure which one of them is moaning more, or who’s making such fucking embarrassing high pitched keening noises but it’s probably fucking him and he doesn’t really care because if Barney keeps hitting _right. fucking. there_ he won’t be caring much about anything. 

Barney’s lips are at his ear, sucking at skin and he’s probably mewling like a fucking cat but _damn_ —and then Barney’s smoothing something over his skull and Lee can feel the weight of that stupid pompom off his head and then Barney whispers “Ride me” against his ear, mustache pricking his skin and the melt of warmth down his chest leaves him breathless, panting hard. 

But Lee follows orders, most the time. Some of the time. Generally all the time when they’re from Barney. But this order he can follow every damn time Barney says it—voice rough and smoky, ground up like he’s coming off chain-smoking cigars, edge of command, all of it setting every damn nerve Lee has on fire. 

Lee rocks up, sinks down slow and listens to the whine wrenching itself out of Barney’s throat, his whole body tensing, hands clamping down on Lee’s hips. He could probably get off on just that—that sound and face. He does it again, even slower, watches the way Barney tenses even more, lines in his face deepening as he stares hard at Lee, intense. 

Barney’s jaw clenches and that’s his only warning before those hands on his hips shift, grip harder, and Barney pushes into him roughly, hips working as Lee cries out against his shoulder, body tight, flare of pain under the pleasure but it’s good, _so fucking good_. And he’s huffing Barney’s name, pleading maybe, fuck if he cares. 

A few mor thrusts, Barney's voice choking out Lee's name, and Lee’s coming with a strangled bastardization of Barney’s name, teeth biting into Barney’s shoulder and he can still feel the pleasant drag of Barney inside him until there’s a moment where Barney goes boneless underneath him and Lee’s eyes open staring at the side of Barney’s face.

The lines are gone and he looks so fucking relaxed and blissful that Lee wants to kiss him stupid but he can’t really move at the moment so he settles for pushing his lips to Barney’s neck. 

“I think you make a better Santa,” Barney mumbles and his chest vibrates under Lee and hell ain’t that a feeling he could get used to. 

“The hat itches.” Lee starts leveraging himself up slowly, just enough to see Barney's whole face.

“Yeah,” and Barney’s got this soft look that makes Lee still because it’s too damn close to the feeling he’s had in his chest for years toward Barney and it’s not a look he expected to ever see on Barney’s face. “What?”

“Nothing,” A lie. “Was just thinking, it sucks we won’t do this again.” An even bigger lie. It’s not at all what he’s thinking about. All he’s thinking about is how fucking beautiful Barney looks, how much Lee doesn’t want to move right now, would rather curl up here on Barney’s chest and sleep. 

“I’m not really much of a one night stand kind of guy, Lee.” 

There’s a finger stroking by his ear, his breathing staggering on the feel, skin shivering.

“I’m also, kind of a fan of Christmas traditions. But like…throughout the year. Every month. Multiple times a day.”

Lee sees himself coming hard between Barney’s lips. Barney laid out under him, squirming under every touch. Sees himself on his hands and knees, Barney bent over him. They could do all that in one day. 

“Yeah?” The alcohol’s worn off, Lee’s noticed. He’s not even a little upset. This has turned out better than expected but he’s wary still. He’ll take sex, if that’s what Barney wants, but part of him wants something else. Something a little different. Something a little more.

“Yeah. And breakfast in bed. Me cooking dinner for two. Movies on this couch under a blanket. I’m kind of a traditional guy all around.”

“That sounds good. Maybe need an elf for your orphanage visits?”

Barney laughs out loud at that, chest shaking underneath Lee and damn, there’s another feeling he could get used to. “Ha, maybe.”

“Hey Barney?”

“Hmm?”

He thinks Barney’s probably falling asleep on him, all that exercise. Lee can feel sleep settling in his bones too though, a kind of heavy warmth that he lets relax him as he stretches out on top of Barney, head under Barney's chin. “Merry Christmas, Barney.”

And Barney goes quiet, the fingers stroking Lee's back stilling for the briefest of moments before Barney swallows, voice sounding a little choked. “Merry Christmas, Lee.”


End file.
